


And the World Cracked Open

by ellacj



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, F/F, First Kiss, Fluff, I love myself, Prom, i'm screaming at how fluffy this is tbh, non-sociopath cruella
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-01
Updated: 2015-05-01
Packaged: 2018-03-26 13:27:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3852568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ellacj/pseuds/ellacj
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Then I did the simplest thing in the world. I leaned down... and kissed [her]. And the world cracked open."</p><p>-Agnes de Mille</p>
            </blockquote>





	And the World Cracked Open

Ursula’s eyes are the kind of brown that makes a person feel warm and happy just looking at them. They’re the same color as the chocolate ice cream dripping down a child’s chin on a hot day in July and as freshly potted soil in a garden of roses and as the stuffed bear Cruella held at night when she was young.

Of course, when Cruella tells her this, Ursula simply smiles to herself and says, “So I’m food and dirt. Thanks, Cru.” She never seems to want to comment on the third one.

It’s these eyes that Cruella finds herself missing today, because for some reason Ursula isn’t in their last hour class today and won’t respond to her possibly way too clingy text messages.

She’s the first one out the door when the bell signals the end of the day, already dialing her phone. “Where were you today?” she demands as soon as Ursula picks up. “I had to suffer through Mr. Locksley’s lecture alone. Really, does he even have an inkling of human emotion in his body?

Ursula laughs on the other end. “Come to the park by my house. I’ll tell you everything when you get here.”

With a frown, Cruella hangs up her phone and heads to the parking lot. She’s always had a speeding problem, but today she’s honestly surprised she makes it to the park alive, her intense curiosity causing her to be even more reckless than she is usually. Cruella’s never been one for waiting.

However, when she gets out of the car, Ursula’s nowhere to be found. All she sees is a small stuffed Dalmatian on the ground, which, upon closer inspection, has a collar around its neck with her name clearly printed on the faux leather. _Press the button_ , is all it says below it. Cruella lifts the animal and squeezes all around its body until she connects with something solid, and Ursula’s voice emanates from it.

_“Hey, Cru, it’s me. I’ve gotta tell you something, but I’m way too awkward to tell you in person, so I got these dogs to help me out.”_

The message ends and Cruella glances around the park until her gaze lands on another Dalmatian at the top of the ladder. “Ursula, are you even here?” she calls out, rolling her eyes with a smirk as she climbs the ladder with as much dignity as one can have on a playground made for eight-year-olds. This dog is labeled with a large number two on its head, so Cruella searches for the button to hear another message.

_“So we’ve been best friends since we were eleven, and I love you so much for that. But lately I feel like there’s something else.”_

With a growl of frustration, Cruella tucks the second stuffed animal into her arms and looks around for a third, which she soon locates balanced on the swing.

_“I think I like you as something more than a friend. And I really, really hope you feel the same way and this isn’t all going to ruin our friendship.”_

The fourth Dalmatian is at the bottom of a slide, and Cruella struggles to keep her dignity when her hair is blowing in the wind she’s creating and her butt is sliding down mysteriously moist plastic.

_“Basically, I wanted to ask you something. Look up.”_

Cruella frowns, setting down the stuffed animal and tilting her head up toward the monkey bars just in time to see Ursula swinging down from the bars, hanging by her legs, hair whipping around in both their faces.

She’s holding another stuffed animal in her hands, this one a purple octopus with a caricature smile and a large **Press Me** button on its chest. She presses it with a nervous grin and her own voice is emitted from the toy.

_“Will you go to prom with me?”_

Cruella grins. “Of course I will, darling.”

“Yeah?” Ursula’s face breaks into a shining smile, and even upside down Cruella can tell she’s just slightly tearing up. “Like, for real?”

“Yes, for real.” Cruella glances up at the sky, throwing Ursula an affectionate smirk. “Now get down from there; I think it’s going to rain.”

“Right.” Ursula reaches up and pulls, but after a moment she falls back into a hanging position. “I’m stuck.”

Cruella raises both precisely painted eyebrows. “How? Aren’t you the athlete between the two of us?”

Ursula flushes slightly, wincing as the first drop of rain lands on her face. “Swim team doesn’t really do much for my upper body strength.”

Cruella sighs. “I suppose I’ll just have to help you down then. But first,” she adds, voice dropping to a soft murmur, “there’s something I’ve always wanted to do.” Gently, giving Ursula plenty of time to object, she takes Ursula’s face in her hands as the rain picks up around them and leans forward slowly, so slowly, until finally their lips meet and it’s like the moment right before the happiest of your life; that moment when you know everything is going to be just fine for the rest of a long time.

When they break apart Ursula’s beautiful brown eyes remain shut just a moment longer before they flutter open to meet Cruella’s. She giggles softly to herself. “You’ve always wanted to kiss someone upside down in the rain?”

“I’ve always wanted to kiss you.” The way she says it, so matter-of-factly, reveals nothing of the sea of emotions raging inside her, flooding every single part of her body right down to the tips of her toes. She just _kissed Ursula_.

“Well then at least let me do it the right way.” Reaching up to grip the bar, Ursula heaves herself up with more than a little help from Cruella’s hand on her back. Once she’s sitting comfortably atop the bar, she leans down as far as she can without falling to gather Cruella into her arms and pull her into a kiss significantly less gentle and infinitely more passionate than the first.

Cruella’s lips move in time with the music in her head, hands gripping Ursula around the shoulders and pulling her closer, closer, _closer_ until she falls off the bar with a shriek and the two of them tumble to the soggy ground. And still their lips find each other again and Cruella’s lipstick is smearing onto Ursula’s lips and her makeup is running and she doesn’t care because Ursula’s hair is growing bigger and curlier in the rain and she feels like she might have finally found home.

There are moments in life when everything feels okay, when every piece of the puzzle fits just perfectly and the picture they form is a work of art that hangs beside the Mona Lisa. By the time Cruella dies she’ll have had exactly four of these moments.

This is the first.

Everything about this kiss feels exactly right, every touch of Ursula’s fingers on her waist and every clumsy bump of their noses because they’re still getting used to the feeling of each other’s lips and every single time they break for breath in a mess of giggles and smiles and gentle pecks all over Cruella’s face.

Cruella’s never been a hopeless romantic; not in the way Ursula is, not in the way her mother tells her she should be. But right here, right now, she thinks she could become one, because Ursula’s lips feel like the beginning of love and her embrace feels like coming home and there must be a reason why Cruella’s head fits perfectly in the crook of her neck.

Maybe it’s silly, but this kiss makes her believe in fate. Her favorite coat is covered in mud and her eyebrows are halfway down her face and she can’t quite bring herself to care when Ursula’s staring at her like she’s just hung the moon and those brown eyes are dancing as they gaze up at her from beneath long lashes.

“That was nice,” Ursula says, voice breathy as she glances away to tuck a curl behind her ear.

Cruella smiles and reaches out to run a piece of Ursula’s hair between her fingers. “I’ve always loved this,” she murmurs. “You should wear it natural to the dance.”

Ursula grins. “Maybe I will.”

Cruella’s eyes are the grey of a thousand rainy days since the beginning of love, the kind of stone grey that makes a person feel comfortable and warm in their lover’s embrace. They’re the same color as a black-and-white photo of a history that shaped a world and as a heart-shaped pendant hanging from a silver chain and as a worn iron gate outside a mansion that has everything but love inside.

It’s these eyes that shine just a little bit brighter after today as they walk to Cruella’s car hand in hand, because today she discovered something beautiful within herself; she discovered she could love.

The rest can wait until tomorrow.


End file.
